


Oh what a sin

by ToriCeratops



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, F/M, First Time, Simulated Sex, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 00:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: Sara really needs to stop dying. More than that, and much more of an immediate problem, she needs to figure out how to come down from the adrenaline high escaping death for the second time brings.  She's exhausted all of her options until SAM reminds her - however unintentionally - of another one.





	Oh what a sin

**Author's Note:**

> _Babe, there's something wretched about this  
>  Something so precious about this  
> Oh what a sin_

There’s something life changing about dying.

Even when you survive that death.  Usually, though, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence - at worst.

Sara’s life has been anything but usual lately.

Her room on the Tempest is colder than she’s used to, even though the environmental controls haven’t been changed by even half a degree in weeks.  She knows it's the thrum of energy just under her skin, heating her up, making the air seem cool in contrast.  She’s in the midst of a crash from an intense adrenaline high and Sara wants nothing more than to be able to crawl out of her skin.  

Usual combat is easy to recover from -  hot shower would do the trick.  A particularly trying day would require an orgasm - or two - even if they were simple and self-induced.  Facing the Archon nose to… nostrils would have been bad enough.  But she had also saved the Salarian arc, saved Drack’s scouts,  _ lost  _ the Salarian pathfinder. Oh.. and she had died.

Again.

Sara is going crazy and nothing has helped.  Meditation.  Yoga.  Sparring with Liam.  Naked yoga -  _ not  _ with Liam.  A hot shower.  Two orgasms IN said shower… Nothing has helped release the tension pulling at her shoulders, her chest, her very being.  As a matter of fact, she’s pretty sure she’s more tightly wound now than when she first got back to the Tempest. 

And she can’t quit fidgeting.  The stars fly past as she stands naked, still damp from her shower, in the center of her room. Sara stares at the endless streaks of light, the paths and blips of color reflecting off her pale skin.  Though it's artificial, a projection, she loves the way it dances on her curves.  While she stands, her foot steadily tapping away, she debates what she should do.

Her long hair is still wet.  She should dry it properly before its natural curls start to dry out and form on their own.  Her usual bun is so much easier to keep orderly when it has been straightened into submission.  

But drying her hair seems beyond pointless at this exact moment, though she can’t really come up with a reason why.  Or hell, anything better to do.  When she shakes her head in frustration her hair flicks about, spinning around.  A smile creeps over her lips at the way the ends slip across her skin and tickle the bare skin of her breasts.

With the lights dimmed and the silence of the room closing in on her, Sara gives up trying to think of something to calm her and flops down onto the bed, feigning sleep the only option left.  

Before she can even convince herself to crawl under the covers, Sara knows that isn’t going to be a viable option.  

Most nights she is content with just the overhead lights out, but on top of the nerves still running under her skin, every little glow is another distraction.  SAM’s globe is out - he always turns in off to give her the illusion of privacy even though she knows better - but there’s a soft blue light illuminating the base every so slightly.  All of the other screens and lights in her room suddenly seem so excessive.  Hell, she doesn’t even use half of them.  But even after she gets the forward viewscreen and all of the others shut off, each one has a unique little light of its own, somewhere near its manual power button.   _ They aren’t too bad.   _ She tries to convince herself. Something constant she can kind of work with.  

It’s the email indicator on her otherwise dark computer terminal that makes her want to scream.  It's a small, softly flashing orange light meant, under normal circumstances, as a gentle unobtrusive reminder that everyone in the galaxy wants her attention.  

She had told SAM weeks before to stop reminding her when new messages came - she checks the damn thing religiously - but she still hasn’t figured out how to deactivate the light.  Not that she’s really tried, to be honest.  But the damn thing is so broken.  Sometimes it wouldn’t be flashing despite her inbox overflowing and others it would light up incessantly even though she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the damn inbox was empty.  Sara had ribbed Kallo about it exactly once. The Salarian had quickly pointed out that her personal computer system had been installed by Nexus crew - in Andromeda.  His team had had  _ nothing  _ to do with it.

Right now though, she doesn’t really care whose fault it is.  She twists around on the bed, facing away from it, still lying naked on top of her sheets.  Why every surface has to be so damned reflective she has no idea.  Even at this angle, she can still see the steady changing light.  

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

Over and over.

“Damn it.”  Sara throws her legs over the side of the bed and stalks over to her computer terminal.  When she gets there she stands, legs wide and braced, hands in fists at her bare hips, and glares at the screen like her anger will actually do something.  She hadn’t actually had a plan when she came over here and now she feels a little foolish.

The desk  _ is  _ still covered in parts of her model repair kit she’d left out from earlier she could…

The light flashes again.

Sara snatches a flathead screwdriver from the desk and without thinking stabs the light.  The cover bursts with a satisfying pop and Sara is instantly, finally, in a steady darkness.  

“There.”  She says, more satisfied than she probably should be. “That did it.”

“Pathfinder.”  From the speaker at his relay station, SAM’s voice fills the emptiness of her room.  “I could have disabled that for you.”  His reminder is cautious and gentle, but Sara still frowns.  

She hadn’t actually thought to ask.

“Where’s the fun in that?”  

Before SAM can respond the light attempts to flash one last time but instead of being good and dead like Sara had intended, it sparks, white hot embers splattering on the back of Sara’s hand.  

“Fuck!  Fuck fuck fuck…”  She shakes off the bits, letting them fall harmlessly to the metal floor before any serious damage can occur.  But some is already done.  She can’t see clearly but she knows from the blossom of pain she is going to have some angry red welts.  

When Sara doesn’t move, SAM speaks up again.  “Medi-gel will help with those burns.”  

She should get some.  She knows she should.  The pain would be gone in an instant.  But that would require taking the dozen steps down to the med-bay.  

Worse, it would require putting clothes on.

“I’ll be fine, SAM.”  Sara is surprised at how defeated she sounds.

When SAM speaks this time, he’s in her head rather than from his relay.  It’s always softer when he does that, more intimate.  “Would you like me to block the pain?”

For lack of a better place to focus on, Sara stares skeptically at SAM’s relay.  “You can do that?  Why don’t you do it when I’m actually in pain, like when I’m being shot at?  How does it even work?”

“In simple terms, the neurons in your brain are all mapped and interconnected with nerve endings throughout your body.  I can block the process of transduction that translates to pain, or simulate other processes that translate to any number of senses.  It is an essential part of how I enhance your abilities.  However, I would never fully block your pain at the height of combat, as it is such an important factor in your responses and reflexes.  I wouldn’t even offer now except…”  He pauses - however briefly - and Sara finds herself surprised at the concern she hears.  “You desperately need to rest, and I would like to help in any way I can.”  Then again, maybe she’s just projecting.  

“I’m good, SAM.”  Which is a lie and they both know it.  “Thanks.”  She blows gently across the back of her hand.  It will sting like a bitch for a while, but it will fade.

With a long suffering sigh and not feeling any more relaxed, Sara turns back toward her bed, turning the forward view screen on to the lowest setting so the room is again filled with the softly changing patterns of space flight.  Maybe, she thinks, she should try and get off again.  That hasn’t really worked, though.  Maybe she needs someone else involved…

PeeBee comes to mind first, as someone who has flat out propositioned her already - more than once.  But Sara has never been with anyone female and while she recognizes the attractiveness of her Asari friend, she needs someone guaranteed to get her going, and quickly.  

Gil’s out, of course.  Not that she hasn’t let her imagination run away without her once or twice.

Liam wouldn’t turn her down.  Of that, she’s 100% sure.  But despite her desire for some kind of intimacy at the moment, she’s been trying to CURB his reckless behavior.  Sleeping with his commander would be a giant leap in the wrong direction.

Unprompted, an image flashes in her mind of standing just as she is now, naked, pale skin glowing in the starlight, in front of Drack, propositioning him in all the best, most awkward and fumbling ways she has perfected throughout her lifetime.  As she tries to squash the thought, burn it, tear it to shreds and forget it ever happened, Sara actually laughs out loud.

God, she needs to sleep.

Her laughter dies when she crawls into the bed, finally under the covers, and her thoughts wander to Jaal.  Despite the fact that she has seen him naked - even if she did try to keep her eyes above waistline - the physical desires are not what she drifts to.  No.  She thinks of Jaal’s laughter, of his smile - his heart.  She does want Jaal but in the kind of way that makes her heart ache long before her loins.  

Another sigh is accompanied by what is sure to be the first of many complete and repetitive turns under the blanket.

Sara eventually lays flat on her back, sprawled out, limbs taking up as much space on the bed as possible, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The blanket settles around her, brushing the back of her burned hand.  It sends a small but sharp shock of pain up her arm.

“SAM.”

“Yes, Ryder?”  His voice is still in her head, a gentle hum of thought and simulated sound.  Good.

“You said you can block neural pathways but also stimulate them.  Not just like you did with my heart but…”

“Stimulating your neural network is a critical process of my core functionality.”

“Ok.  that’s uh, great.  So, can you uh…”  she has no idea how to ask what she wants to, nor even is she sure she should in the first place.  “Fuck.  Ok.  SAM.  Dad blocked some memories right, but could he have erased them if he wanted to?

There is another pause - long by SAM standards.  “I would prefer not to have memories erased.  But it can be done.”

_ Perfect. _

“For both of us.”  He seems to add as an afterthought.

_ Even better.   _ Sara thinks.  Because if this goes to hell in a handbasket - hell, even if she gets what she’s after - she’s not one hundred percent convinced she’ll want to know she did it.

“Alright.  Awesome.  Perfect.  So, can you…” Sara is still unsure, finding her footing.  “Can you make it seem like something is there that… isn’t?”

“Such as?”

Silence stretches again while Sara thinks of the best way to ease into the subject.  She pulls her good hand out and stares at it.

“Can you make my brain think there is a cube in my hand?”  though nothing visible happens, the sensation of a small, metal cube pressing into her hand makes Sara’s face light up with a smile.  Its edges are sharp, and it’s even cool to the touch.

“Okay, make it a sphere.”

The shape morphs.  It has the same weight as before but it’s warmer this time. It feels - 

“Wood?”

“Yes. That was my intention.”

“This is really cool, SAM.”  And it is.  Even beyond her original intentions.  But now her body is starting to take note, heating up.  She can feel herself getting turned on as her possibilities keep expanding.

“Let’s try something else.  How about puddy.?”

Though logically she knows she doesn’t need to, Sara cups her hand and closes her eyes.

“Would you like something thick?”  Her hand is suddenly full of a glob of - something - dry and moldable, but not changing much on its own, like a corrective polymer that hasn’t been cured yet.  “Or perhaps something more like Omni-gel.”  The polymer seems to melt in her hand until she’s got a palm full of a cold, tingly semi-solid liquid.  It even rolls in her palm, leaving her skin feeling sticky where it leaves.  At this point, she opens her eyes and has to fight the surprise that her hand is indeed still empty.  To see how much SAM will play along she shakes out her hand.  The sensation doesn’t vanish, but rather seems to be shaken away, sticky residue left behind and all.  When the cool drops of gel seem to splash on her bare stomach, Sara lets out a quick burst of laughter.  

“Ok, ok.  Next test. Someone grabbing my arm.  Not enough to hurt, but enough to really feel the pressure.”  

Without a response, SAM complies.  The grip on her bicep is so convincing she looks down at it fully expecting to see the skin indented and discolored.  But of course, finds nothing.  Now though, a spark has flared into a flame, deep in her gut, and she can feel her heartbeat quicken.  

“Good.  Good.  Awesome.”  Shit, she’s letting the awkward creep in.   _ Keep it together, Sara.   _ “How about, sand paper?  Just brushing over the skin.”

Again, the sensation shift into a coarse surface, barely making contact and sending goosebumps down her arm.  

She swallows, trying to make her next request sound like the logical next step rather than her true goal from the beginning.  “Can you do, you know, maybe… I don’t know, a human tongue?”

And Sam does.  It’s warm and soft and wet.  It’s perfect.

Sara sighs, just a small, content escape of a breath.  Her voice lowers and she points to where the sensation is slipping across her shoulder.  “Now.  Make it follow my finger.”  As she slowly moves along her arm, never really touching herself, she expects the slick, steady slide of a static object. But SAM surprises her.  There are lips too.  She closes her eyes and moves her hand, SAM’s tongue and lips following her path, fluttering, almost a kiss on her bare skin, so light and so soft a shiver runs down her spine.

Her path continues, the flutter of kiss like sensations along her collarbone feel like the attentions of an actual lover, rather than a simulated sensation by an AI.  A breath catches in her throat.  Sara starts to lose herself to it, taking SAM’s attention down her chest, to her already peaked nipples.  This time it's more than a kiss, a deliberate flick, a brush of lips and tongue that draws a soft cry of delight from Sara. 

“Ah..”

“Sara.”  SAM’s voice breaks her from the trance of sensation and reality comes crashing back, hard.  She hadn’t told him her intentions, hadn’t asked.

“Shit.  Damn it.  Shit.  Fuck, I’m so sorry, SAM.  I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…”

“Please, Sara.  Do not apologize.”  His voice is somewhat quieter than usual, and though on the surface just as artificial as always, there is a hum of something more.”I believe I know what it is you desire.”

“That transparent, huh?”

“If you will allow, I can continue with very little direction needed.”

Sara lays there in silent shock for a moment, frozen in her indecision.  It doesn’t last long, however.  Maybe it's the nerves.  Maybe it's that she hasn’t slept in 36 hours.  Maybe she really is that desperate for relief, but she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

“Okay, SAM.”

This time, there are two hands, but the attention doesn’t start at her breast where the tongue had left off but at her neck and shoulders.  The hands have a warm, somewhat slick feel to them as if they’re coated in a massaging oil.  Strong fingers knead carefully into the muscle at her shoulder, palms rolling against the skin.  His simulated hands don’t stay still, working slowly across her chest, down, soft drags of fingers that she can’t help but smile at.  Her breasts are both squeezed gently, still with a massaging touch.  But the ghost of another string of kisses to her collar betrays his intentions.

It sends a cool wave of pleasure through Sara’s skin and she lets out a long, slow breath.

“SAM.  I  have one more request.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t…”  SAM’s simulated sensations pause at her word.  “Don’t simulate the orgasm.  Okay?  Let my body get there on its own.”  Everything starts again, a little firmer, a little more intense.

“Of course.”  He doesn’t say anything after that.

Neither of them do.

For a long time, Sara lays there, feeling the blissful effects of a sensual massage that isn’t really happening.  It’s surreal, and all the more intense for it.  Because SAM isn’t bound by physical limitations, she finds herself being massaged down her back, soft, teasing touches bring sweet shivers down her spine, without even having to roll over.  All of this continues while both her breasts are kissed and teased until she’s gasping for air.     
Sara is beginning to think she has found heaven.  

Sometimes a movement or sensation will change even before Sara has consciously registered that she doesn’t like it.  The ones she does like get intensified - harder, softer, or more firm - all in a breath of a moment.  SAM is reading her like a wide o n book, and giving her everything her body craves.

When the hands on the small of her back begin to dip lower, to gently squeeze at the firm muscles of her ass, Sara instinctively parts her legs despite having nothing physical to make room for.  SAM’s invisible hands follow the curve of her body, around her ass and up along the soft, sensitive skin of her thighs. It tickles in a way that if she were not burning with desire would make her laugh uncontrollably.  Now, though, a sound escapes her already parted lips that is more of a desperate plea than anything else.

Sara tils her hips, opening herself up, silently asking for more.

But SAM… SAM isn’t doing what Sara  _ wants.   _ SAM is doing exactly what Sara’s body is telling him it needs.  The hands continue to glide across her flesh, along her thighs, over her mound, fingers teasing at her soaking lips.  

Her breath quickens and her heart races with every touch, every tease.  The firm press of lips returns, starting along the tender skin of her neck, ghosting down, following lines of muscles and tendons that rise and fall along the curves of her body.

Though she aches for more and is dripping with desire, Sara finds that her body, and her mind, are relaxed.  Her muscles no longer twitch with the need to release energy. Her skin no longer crawls with the tension and irritation of the day that has plagued her for hours.  Every knot, every twist, has been pushed aside, replaced kiss by kiss, touch by simulated touch, with a feeling of comfort.  She is cared for.

She is safe.

Sara lets out a long, deeply satisfied sigh.

And then, a spark.

A jolt of pleasure.  Another. Pleasure races up her spine and steals her breath.  Without warning, something thick and warm flicks against her clit.  Again and again the pressure rolls along the sensitive flesh and Sara bites her lip to keep from crying out.  She can feel the edge of her release barrelling towards her with each simulated lick, every gentle sucking sensation and roll of a tongue she knows isn’t really there.  Just as her muscles begin to seize up everything slows, and the pressure and speed die down just enough to keep her there, but not to fall over.

This time, she does cry out, a string of breathy curses and pleas that remain thoroughly unanswered.  Almost as if purposely contrary to her begging, the movements slowly bring her back down.

Before she can catch her breath and properly demand more, the gentle, sweet pressure of fullness begins to overtake her.  It starts at her entrance, almost too big at first but perfect within moments.  A sweet, slick slide that feels like taut warm skin against her walls.  She has to fight to keep her eyes closed to not ruin the illusion, even as she shifts her body to accept the feeling of intrusion.

It pulls back, then slips in again, slowly.  Deeper each time.  A steady build up of pleasure until something deep within her is stimulated just right and a new wave of ecstasy washes through her, coursing through her veins.  Sara clenches the sheets when it happens again, loses the rhythm of her breath on the third one.  SAM keeps going, picking up the pace at steady increments, igniting her senses with each deep thrust.

This pleasure is different from before, not as sharp and slower to build, but broader - all encompassing.

Sara wants this feeling to never end. She hums with appreciation, rocking her hips to meet each thrust, forgetting completely that there is nothing really there to meet.

The touch of hands returns to her breasts, gentleness gone and grip firm, new spikes of pleasure with each sharp pulse.  And then - a twist of pressure at her rim. Her eyes shoot open in shock but before she can cry out in protest, she’s full there too, and it is better than she had ever imagined.. 

In.

Out.

Deeper.

There is no pain, only indescribably bliss that comes from having every sexual nerve ending she has come to life at once, fantasies she’s never in her wildest dreams thought she would get to truly experience coming true.

SAM has complete control over Sara’s body - pleasure, pain, all of it - and in that moment, she wouldn’t take it back for anything in the entire universe.

Her back arches, toes curling into the sheets.  She is filled and stretched and fucked at a blissfully bruising pace.  Each thrust is deep, hitting her core from front and back - filled, held, caressed, kissed, everywhere, all at once.  Her skin is set ablaze with a thousand tender kisses.

Sara can’t breathe with the overload of sensations, her breasts ache in the best of ways, her muscles tight, wound up along every inch of her body down to her bones, ready to snap.

“S… SAM… Please…”

Everything becomes bright and new when the feeling of a tongue on her clit lights up again, fast and purposeful. 

Another heartbeat.

Another eternity.

And she comes.

Her body clenches as wave after wave of release crashes through her veins, a bright tingle of electricity racing across her skin.  She is wet, bed soaked, thighs slick down to her knees and getting worse with every pulse.  SAM’s thrusts continue through every drawn out second of her orgasm and she rides out the intensity of it until she has nothing left to give and falls back to the bed breathless, boneless.  

A soft blue light sparks behind her eyes as the simulated movements slow as another kind of warmth takes over her.

It starts in her gut, expanding slowly, filling her with a heavy feeling of comfort.  It’s like being gently placed into a warm pool of water, the ripples swirling around the divots in her skin, both inside and out.

This is… this is not from her own pleasure, Sara recognizes that much.  It is something else, something more that she hadn’t expected, can’t even put a name to.

For a while she lays in the empty silence, breath still shaken, eyes closed, desperately trying to cling the feelings coursing through her. Though her own orgasm fades, the warmth and comfort… the ‘other’... remains.  Sara curls herself into the feeling and smiles, a breathless, almost silent, “thank you” on her lips.

Sara drifts, not quite awake and not quite asleep. SAM’s voice registers in her mind, but she can’t quite make it out through the haze.  “Huh?”

“Would you like me to erase this evening from our memories?”

Now she is awake.  At least, awake enough to somewhat take stock.  She should ache as hard as she was fucked.  There should be blissfully tender bruises, gentle purple spots in stark contrast to her ivory skin.  But the only physical evidence is the thick pool of warmth between her legs and the lingering afterglow in her memories. 

“Do you want to forget?”  She asks him quietly, almost scared of his answer.

There is a long pause in which Sara curls into herself a little more.

“No.  I do not.”

The happiness that overwhelms her is enough to bring a tear to her eye.  But she blinks it away.  “Keep it, SAM. I know I will.”

This time, when she closes her eyes, she finally begins to drift off into a blissful state of sleep.

But not before a soft, gentle caress of a kiss brushes against her temple, warm and affectionate.

“Thank you, Sara.”   

 

**Author's Note:**

> I make _no_ apologies.   
>  Come hang out at my [tumblr.](http://toriceratops.tumblr.com/)


End file.
